


leave me on the tracks to wait until the morning train arrives

by pechee (sajere1)



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BDSM, Campaign: A Crown of Candy, Dom/sub Undertones, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Spoilers, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:18:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23941210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sajere1/pseuds/pechee
Summary: “You are excellent at what you do. Protecting others. And I would very much appreciate if you could extend that protection to me, in the days to come.”“Chancellor Lapin, of course – my personal feelings will never interfere with my duty. You’re a member of the king’s entourage, I am obligated to protect – ““I don’t want you to protect me for the king,” Lapin whispers, and he doesn’t know when he stood up, just knows he’s standing now, taking slow steps over to hover above Theobald. Theobald is so large, tall, looming – to be looking down at him is a unique kind of thrill, one that bites at the back of Lapin’s throat. “I want you to protect me for me.”
Relationships: Lapin Cadbury/Theobald Gumbar, Unrequited Theobald Gumbar/Amethar Rocks
Comments: 46
Kudos: 252





	1. Chapter 1

There’s one, big problem that’s keeping Lapin from getting Theobald alone, and that problem is named Calroy Cruller.

He isn’t sure if the man is doing it out of some misguided sense of suspicion, if he truly thinks that they are unsafe if they aren’t in groups of at least three, or if he genuinely just doesn’t realize that he’s butting in, but every time they pull aside to discuss something, the cake man is there. In retrospect, this had always been the case – Lapin had just never been actively trying to get Theobald alone before. Had it been a week ago, the realization would make him thankful that Calroy was making sure he never had to put up with the man alone. Now, it is a frustration.

The temporary quarter they’ve been assigned as the Candian entourage is, by and large, magnificent, but both Lapin and Theobald had chosen the simplest rooms, Lapin because he was schmoozing the Hierophant Rex when everything was decided so he was stuck with the last available room, and Theobald because…well, Lapin doesn’t know. The same reason Theobald never indulges beyond what’s absolutely necessary at festivals, the same reason he lets the twins make up their own daily schedules so long as he approves them: because he is an enormous, selfless pushover.

Or – not pushover. ‘Pushover’ implies ‘easy to manipulate into doing what you want.’ Lapin didn’t know it was possible for a person to be so self-sacrificing and so stubbornly strong-willed at the same time before he met Theobald. 

Thus the need to speak to him alone. Lapin does one last, quick check on himself outside the door to Theobald’s room. His leg’s thumping – a bad nervous habit from childhood; he shook it for a while, but it’s been popping up the last couple of days. He forces himself still, breathes deeply in and back out. Calm. Collected. Cunning.

He steels himself and knocks on the door.

There’s a moment of silence where Lapin focuses all his energy on keeping himself still, broken by the sound of the bolt undoing and the door opening so that Lapin is face-to-face with Sir Theobald Gumbar himself. “…oh,” Theobald says, blinking slowly down at Lapin, before he straightens his back into something official. “Chancellor. How can I help you?”

Lapin doesn’t mean to stare, but – it has never occurred to him, before this very moment, that he’s never see Theobald without his armor before, not in all the years they’ve worked together. It’s near the bed, of course, just visible past Theobald’s arm, presumably in case of emergency, but to see him without it is…strangely vulnerable. It’s – Lapin had just assumed Theobald was bald, for some reason, hadn’t realized that his hair was just shorn short enough to hide under a helmet, that he has a bit of a gut. It does wonders for the man’s resting expression to be able to fully see his eyebrows.

…all of which is irrelevant. “I was hoping we could talk in private,” he says, a little curt. “I, of course, apologize for bothering you at such a late hour.”

Theobald squints at him for a moment – even his gaze is softer without the helmet, crinkles around his eyes emphasized, somehow, set of his jaw less stark. “…of course,” he says, after a moment, and steps aside to allow Lapin entrance.

There’s not much to look at – they had all packed fairly sparsely for the trip, and Theobald had brought the least of all, discounting what he needed for battle. At Theobald’s gesture, Lapin deposits his Lollystaff against the wall and takes a seat in the edge of the bed. With one hand, Theobald flips the chair that has been stationed near the vanity to face him and sits. “What would you like to discuss, Chancellor Lapin?”

Lapin pauses for a moment – just a moment – to be sure that his voice will not waver. “I wanted to speak on Princess Jet’s outburst in the carriage the other day.”

“I thought that might be the case.” Theobald nods, a little wary, but seemingly understanding.

It’s not what Lapin expected him to do. He pauses – fiddles, instinctively, with his lucky rabbit’s foot – forces his hand still. “You…have not told anyone,” he says, slowly. “Or at the least, you’ve told no one outside our delegation.”

“Cal did ask,” Theobald admits, and Lapin’s stomach turns. It was the suspicion, then. “But – no, I didn’t tell him. I haven’t told anyone.”

“Why?”

The silence as Theobald and Lapin regard each other is stark. It’s uncomfortable – normally, the moments when he’s forced to interact with Theobald are the loudest of his day, full of annoying complaints and snapping back and forth and waspish insults. Even their silences were loud, somehow, in the way that Lapin could feel his glare, ever suspicious, ever angry.

Theobald is not looking at Lapin with suspicion now. Theobald has never looked at Lapin the way he is looking now, with no negativity at all that Lapin can see, just caution and – and something that Lapin does not recognize. Something he has never, ever seen before.

“…when I was younger, I trained under Archmage Lazuli,” Theobald says, finally, voice even. “I never had a knack for the work, but – she was a brilliant wizard. She had high hopes for the future of the world.” He cocks his head at Lapin, curiously, frowning, the wrinkles between his brows creasing. “We’re in the dark ages. That’s what she would say. The Bulb, and magic, and – and everything about the world. Just because it isn’t bright now doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be.” A pause. “…I was a pretty good student, I think.”

Lapin’s mouth twitches for just a second, into something like a smirk at that. He can think of a hundred rebuttals, on who he is, what he’s done, how little Theobald knows, how many assumptions he’s made – but Lapin is not in the business of shooting himself in the foot. No quarter. No weakness.

Well. A little weakness, as needed. “I…” Lapin grimaces, shifts around just a little. “I. Appreciate. Your discretion.”

Theobald blinks, surprised. “…of course,” he says, a little gruffly. “Though, for the record, I still think you’re just – just an absolute bastard.”

Lapin snorts. “Duly noted.” He looks back up to meet Theobald’s gaze, even and harsh, setting his jaw. “With the knowledge of your trust…I wondered if I might ask something of you.”

There’s the suspicion Lapin knows so well. It’s almost comforting, the sight of Theobald’s narrowed eyes, in a way that Lapin is not quite sure he wants to analyze. “What is it you want to ask?”

Lapin leans forward – doesn’t quite bend, doesn’t slouch, but leans, enough for Theobald to know how deadly serious he is. “You – trusted me, in the dungeon today,” he says quietly. “Which, again, I appreciate. But, while I believe that arresting Alfredi was the right move. It will make things very dangerous for us. And especially for me.” He glances at Theobald’s armor – rapid, out the corner of his eye, just a nervous look, but Theobald catches it, his brow smoothing. “You are excellent at what you do. Protecting others. And I would very much appreciate if you could extend that protection to me, in the days to come.”

“Chancellor Lapin, of course – my personal feelings will never interfere with my duty. You’re a member of the king’s entourage, I am obligated to protect – “

“I don’t want you to protect me for the king,” Lapin whispers, and he doesn’t know when he stood up, just knows he’s standing now, taking slow steps over to hover above Theobald. Theobald is so large, tall, looming – to be looking down at him is a unique kind of thrill, one that bites at the back of Lapin’s throat. “I want you to protect me for me.”

There is a moment of silence. Theobald swallows – this close, Lapin can see the way his throat bobs with it, how the movement makes his mustache bristle, can trace the scars across Theobald’s ear, neck, arms, with his eyes. “…that’s not my job.”

“That’s why I am not employing you. I am asking you.”

They’re too close – Lapin can hear the sound of Theobald’s breathing, can almost lean into his space, could, if he really wanted, push Theobald’s legs apart and step in between them, completely box him in. It is suffocating, how desperately Lapin is trying not to think about it. Theobald licks his lips, quick. “That…hardly seems a fair deal, Chancellor. You aren’t even paying me.”

“I can.”

“How much?”

“I wasn’t thinking money.”

“Then what?”

Lapin doesn’t think, just reaches out to take Theobald’s chin in hand, to brush a thumb over his lips. Theobald’s eyes have gone wide, his neck is tensed, but he doesn’t pull away – doesn’t resist at all as Lapin shifts his chin up to get a clear look at the length of his throat, the tickled hairs of half-shaven shadow.

“You are excellent at what you do,” Lapin says again. “Serving others.”

He’s rewarded with the sight of Theobald swallowing again – throat bobbing directly against Lapin’s fingers, this time, the same rush of control trilling through him, edging out the raw nerves that threaten to end this before it starts. “I think you like it,” he whispers. He does what he was thinking about, steps in, and Theobald parts his legs before Lapin can even reach down to push them – lovely, obedient, and there is something about seeing Theobald’s irritating fucking mouth just a little agape, about the sight of someone who is never not fighting him surrendering completely, that has Lapin feeling hot in the face. “Obedience. To please. I think you like it in ways you don’t want revealed.”

Theobald’s eyes are hooded where they look at Lapin. “Are you blackmailing me, Chancellor?”

“Never.” He tugs Theobald’s head back to center, still craned up but tilted, just a bit, just enough that Lapin can lean in so close that their mouths are an inch apart, that Lapin can hear the stuttered intake of breath when he says, “I am making you an offer.”

He hovers, for a moment – Theobald’s face fully in his grip, hands coming up to tremble towards Lapin’s legs (though he catches himself, Lapin notes with something that thrums through him again like fire, before he can touch – waiting for permission, waiting for orders). The closeness is infuriating, intoxicating. Theobald’s mouth is slack, a few centimeters away, and Lapin wonders if he’ll taste sweet, like sugar, cherry red like he looks –

Lapin stands abruptly, so abruptly that Theobald is almost knocked off balance where he’s sitting, has to catch himself on the side of the vanity. “Think on it,” he say, prim and prudent, as he retrieves his staff, brushing some imaginary dust off of his robes. “Let me know what you decide.”

He can feel the intensity of Theobald’s gaze as he leaves the room.

That went well. No attachments. Lapin is fine. Lapin is safe. Lapin is cunning, and not in over his head, and is keeping a careful distance from the situation.

The moment the door is closed behind him, Lapin realizes, suddenly and with horror, that his foot is thumping.


	2. Chapter 2

Lapin has barely touched the door handle when Theobald brushes past him, dressed in day-clothes but not in armor, and crowds Lapin against the bed. “We need to discuss some things.”

“Good evening again, Sir Theobald.” Any other day, he would be long asleep. Tonight, several hours after their meeting, he is wide awake – fitful after his conversation with the captain, replaying the discussion in his mind, thinking of the way Theobald’s breath felt against his thumb, lying awake and imagining the possibilities for the future. Judging by the light bags under his eyes and the certainty in his gaze, Theobald’s night has been much the same. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Your – offer.” Theobald scratches the back of his head, steps away to pace, idly, a quick stop-start through Lapin’s room. “I want…clarifications. Before the others wake.” A glance up. Back down to his feet. “…I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Bit late for that.” Lapin steps around him to close the door, bolting it shut after a moment of consideration. His room is a bit bigger than Theobald’s but lain out similarly, the dresser with his Bulbian ‘holy symbol’ discarded atop it, his bed carefully made but for the rustle in the covers where he’d been failing to sleep. Lapin is not a young man, and he cannot keep going without sleep like he once could, but he is wide awake, right now, keenly aware of everything happening. “If you have questions, ask them.”

“This – if we – this.” Theobald gestures, widely to the room. “What…precisely, what are you asking of me? Not for – the protection. I understand that. But for…”

Lapin watches calmly from his place at the door, leaned against the latch. “For the sexual component?”

Theobald makes a startled sort of noise. “I – yes. What…for that.”

Lapin cocks his head, a bit curious. “It is your vices that I am indulging,” he says, simply. “I will do to you what you want me to do to you. I will tell you that I will not hurt you tonight, because I do not know what dangers will come, so if pain is what you wish, it will need to wait for a different time. And I will not gag you and treat you roughly at the same time until I am confident in your ability to signal me.”

Theobald has gone completely silent. Lapin doesn’t make a habit of speaking in vulgar tones – even now, he is careful to keep his voice distant, unaffected, logical – but even so, every word Lapin says seems to urge something in Theobald, something dark-eyed and vulnerable. “I do not have tools on me at the moment,” Lapin says, stepping closer to reach up, brush his hand over Theobald’s collarbone. It’s interesting, that Theobald had dressed for this – undoubtedly to retain his dignity if someone saw him travel. Lapin, fingers brushing over the upper button of his shirt, wants very suddenly to strip him of it. “Searching them out now might be suspicious. But…” He presses his thumb to the hollow of Theobald’s throat, directly.

Theobald makes a shuddery, pliant noise as Lapin moves his thumb away from the spot of vulnerabilities, rests his hand on the side of Theobald’s neck. “What – what would you buy?”

“A collar.” Theobald’s eyes dilate. “Perhaps I would engrave it with your name. Or something more vulgar, if being degraded is something you want.” He tips Theobald’s chin up – a mimicry of what they had done only a few hours before, but with both fully aware, this time, with purpose. “A leash, to go with it, so I could drag you to wherever I wanted without giving you the pleasure of my touch. I would have it made ostentatious, but small enough to hide under your armor – so that you could wear it all day, and no one would know, but every time you moved your head, every time I looked at you, you would remember, and think of what I will do to you.”

Theobald shudders, full-body, under Lapin’s grip. Adrenaline thrums through him in delight. “Rope,” Lapin whispers. “I would tie your hands, your legs, while I fucked you, so you could do nothing but lie still and take it. Or perhaps while I fucked myself on you. I am certainly curious as to what it will feel like. Have you ever had penetrative sex before?”

“Not – on top,” Theobald mumbles, when it is clear Lapin is waiting for an answer. “’m too big. Easier for my partner – if I’m taking it.”

Lapin has to hold himself back from biting his lip, from showing his weakness, at the thought that Theobald is _too big_ to be fucked by. There are other things to discuss first. “But you have received? From another man?”

Theobald nods, half-enchanted. Lapin opens his mouth –

\- he closes it. He had meant to ask if – if it was Amethar, if the way that Theobald looked on his king with adoration came to something more, after all. But it – worries him, how much the question bothers him, how much he wants to know the answer. He is not in a position – this is not an emotional arrangement. Theobald’s loyalty to the king is unquestionable, and Lapin cannot allow himself to be. Resentful. That is…irrational. Entirely unnecessary.

“Would you like to try to fuck me?” Lapin murmurs, out of nowhere, and Theobald chokes on air. Lapin smiles. Theobald nods, frantic, and like that the moment of worry is gone, Lapin’s attention returned to the situation at hand and the warmth of Theobald chest under his grip, where his hand has slid down to press overtop the shirt. “I would like to make you open me up, one finger at a time, and tell you exactly how to fuck me. I would like to make you lick your own cum out of my hole after you finish. I would like to make you lie there with my spend on your face as I fuck myself on you again. I would like to fuck you in return, and I would like to cum inside you and push a toy in, so that every time you move for the hours after you feel me inside you, you think of me fucking you.” He traces his thumb over Theobald’s pec, soft but unyielding through the cloth. “That is what I want. But what I am asking of you? Nothing. Whatever you want.”

“That,” Theobald breathes. “That. All of that. The – toys, the rope, the…that.”

“The degrading? The pain?”

“Yes.” Theobald licks his lips. “I want – punished. And rewarded. Either, as required.”

Lapin reaches his hand up to press against Theobald’s face. The touch seems to startle Theobald out of his reverie – he reaches up, takes Lapin’s wrist in hand, and closes his eyes. He breathes deeply, just once, and when he opens his eyes again he is more focused, looking at Lapin with intent. “There is – more, that I have to ask.”

Lapin huffs a breath through his nose. “Then ask it.”

“This – cannot interfere with actual duties,” Theobald says, voice a bass thrumming through Lapin’s hands. “My duties to the king – they come first. If this wears on those, that is the end of it.”

That lash of something snaps through Lapin’s mind again, something like – anger, or resentment, something childlike and completely unnecessary. “Of course,” he says, fighting down the scowl that threatens to overtake his face. At Theobald’s relief, it pings through him again, a dark flash of – of jealousy, the desire for Theobald to turn that attention to him, to be protected, to be cared for.

Oh, no. Oh, no. If Lapin’s getting emotionally invested, this might…this idea might not be…

Theobald doesn’t seem to notice the sudden trouble to Lapin’s thoughts, his gaze as serious and steady as ever on the Chancellor’s face. “When will we start? Tonight? Or…” Theobald looks down at Lapin, brow furrowing.

Lapin – barely even hears him. He is not a likable man. He had come to terms with that about himself, long, long ago – that his priority is to be useful, indispensable, that this has much more value to his survival than likability. He is not a friend of the Rocks family. He is a tool which they sometimes apply for their needs, in the same way they are a tool he uses for his own. He very simply is not capable of inspiring compassion in people, and he had certainly never wanted any from the royal family before.

What changed? When he had shifted from irritated by Theobald’s very existence to craving his attention? It is dangerous. Implacable. Lapin is not – he should not want anything at all from Theobald that is not personally useful to him. And – the kind of respect, the kind of attention, the kind of love Theobald has for Amethar – that is not something that Lapin could ever hope to inspire in anyone, no matter how he manipulated them, no matter how pliable they might be. Theobald would never…to encourage these feelings of Lapin’s would be, it would be…

“Chancellor?” Theobald says, a little concerned.

Lapin startles. He realizes, suddenly, that he has been staring at Theobald’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb across his neck in a soothing motion. He jerks his hand back, as if forced away. “Ah – I apologize. I…” he looks up, grimacing. “What did you ask?’

“When this would start, if it would be – tonight, or…?”

Lapin catches his foot thumping and takes a deep breath, forcing it to still. “Perhaps – not tonight,” he says, and takes a full step back, despite how much he misses the heat when it disappears. Theobald blinks, a little surprised, over at Lapin. He needs to – recalculate. Find a way to ensure that this is not going to – to compromise him, in some way, his plans, his motivations. He did not realize he was entering such a dangerous game, offering this to Theobald. He must prepare himself. “I think…it would be – yes, it would be for the best if, perhaps if we took time to, ah – “

Theobald puts both of his hands up. “Okay,” he says, and Lapin’s stomach rolls when he realizes Theobald’s expression is concerned. Theobald has never been concerned about Lapin before, just bitter for his victories or smugly satisfied for his misfortunes, this is – Lapin cannot allow himself to, to befriend this giant oaf, to care about, about what he – “I had one more question. Is that alright?”

Lapin looks down to the side. His arms are crossed, and there is no stopping his foot from thumping now – he can only hope that Theobald reads it as impatient, that his blush does not betray him. “Ask it. Quickly,” he snaps, clinging tight to his own arm.

He hears Theobald take a step toward him. He does not back away – it is not in his nature to back down – but when Theobald is close enough to reach out and touch he shuffles, turns his gaze fully downwards, and Theobald stops. “I don’t do – transactions,” Theobald says, in that same serious tone when he mentioned the king. “This is not…I do not want you to, trade me sexual favors, in exchange for my service. That is…I do not want that arrangement.”

“That is not a question,” Lapin snaps.

Theobald’s hand comes up – stops, halfway reaching to Lapin, hesitates, so genuine that Lapin looks up to meet Theobald’s eyes. “I am not going to buy your…services…if they are not services you want to give,” Theobald says, quiet. “I do not have sex with unwilling partners. So I have to know. Do you want this?”

Lapin holds Theobald’s gaze for a moment – his eyes flick down to his lips, his moustache, the curve of where shirt meets chest. Slowly, Theobald extends his hand further, inch by inch, until he is cupping half of Lapin’s face. It is an easy out – if Lapin says no, he can end this offer on mutual terms, and find another way to secure Theobald’s kindness. But – the truth is…

“Yes,” Lapin breathes, and Theobald bends down and kisses him.

It is not the power play that all of their interactions have been so far – Lapin is not in control here; it feels, instead, as if they are both helpless, both of Theobald’s hands on his face now, his own tightened in the strings of Theobald’s shirt, open mouthed and desperate and both seeking something. It is crazed, something less like the way Lapin has promised to fuck and more like the way they argue; frantic, sloppy, unbefitting of their ages or positions, and so fucking good.

Theobald pulls away and Lapin drags him back in again, topples them both onto the mattress, so that Theobald is hovering above him, chest heaving, trailing kisses down to Lapin’s chin. “Are you sure,” Theobald breathes, “are you sure not tonight – “

Lapin swallows. “Not – not the way we discussed,” he says, shakily, because he cannot say yes but he feels as though he will die if he says no. “I will not – the, the obedience, it will wait. But – if, perhaps, a test run, to – to learn – “

“Let me, first.” Theobald trails his hand, shaky, to the fastenings of Lapin’s nightrobe, skates down to fumble with the edges. “Let me – learn you, take care of you, first.”

“You want to – serve me?” Lapin says, a little breathless.

Theobald’s eyes dilate. “Yes. Please. I want to – to please you, so that – when you demand it of me – “

“Well, go on then,” Lapin breathes, at Theobald’s hopeful gaze, and Theobald crushes him in another kiss as he sets to work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter involves explicit sexual content; lapin is written as a trans character, and theo is written as a cis gay character. Surprise! They Fuck

Theobald does not stay the night.

It was the right decision, he thinks to himself, lifting the blanket so he can get into his bed. It’s cold – there’s a moment of adjustment, even in the smoggy atmosphere of Fructera. Minutes ago he’d been on a similar mattress, with another body’s heat near has. Returning had been the smart thing. Theobald’s armor is in his own room – Theo had completely forgotten to ask, but he suspects Lapin would rather keep their, er, arrangement private among friends – they still don’t know what the church’s response to Alfredi’s arrest will be – church officials are supposed to be celibate, and Theobald’s presence would compromise Lapin – he wakes up far earlier than Lapin does – who knows how long it would take them to go from their strange new tension back to bickering, and then they’d get no sleep at all. There are a million excellent reasons that Theobald went back to his own room. They make sense.

They also, as Theobald rolls onto his back, spread-eagle, and stares at the ceiling, provide little comfort. Lapin had been perfectly cordial about it. There was no argument, no disagreement. Because it was the right thing to do. It _was_ the right thing to do.

It just bothers him, he thinks, when Lapin cedes ground without a fight. Lapin is always confrontational. He is always fighting Theo.

(Which shouldn’t excite him the way it does. Theo should not have looked down at Lapin, robes mussed and eyes wide, lips bitten a darker brown, and felt something stir in him at the fire of his gaze. “Are you going to get to it or not?” Lapin snapped, breathless and indignant.

It’s a dual excitement – of Lapin, standing over that fucking carrot, leaning in to whisper, sensual, only to pull back and slap, a crack so hard Theobald can still hear it in his mind. But also – of Lapin snarling some insult about Theo’s intelligence, the idea of shoving him down onto his knees and using his big stupid ears as handles to fuck his mouth, give it something better to do. Theobald knows that he likes submission – always has, even back in the war, when trysts were quick and messy to blow off steam, and he knew that the loyalty was something he shared with every soldier and man on the battlefield. But he didn’t realize that he liked the other side, too. That he liked the fight of it – not submission, the way Theo wants for himself, because Lapin would not submit, but of gaining the upper hand, of winning the battle. Of Lapin, glaring up at him, in Theo’s imagination, nipping at his leg with sharp teeth even as he takes in as much of Theo as he can.

“Try and make me,” he breathed, a taunt. He wanted Lapin to make him. He wanted Lapin to try to make him and fail.

Lapin scowled, but his body betrayed him when Theo finally undid the fastenings of his nightclothes. Lapin’s legs were parted, so that Theo could fit between them, and Lapin was – wet, lips glistening with how deep Theo got to him, flushed from his stomach all the way up. “If you are going to be stubborn, I will simply take care of myself,” he snapped, reaching down with a hand, and – 

Theo grabbed Lapin’s legs, forced them to spread just that little bit further, as Lapin reached down with long fingers to press against his clit. He bit his lip to muffle quiet moans, like an act of defiance. Theo felt entranced, watching the way his middle finger played down to dip inside himself, the way he sighed around it, his thumb pulling himself apart on one side so that Theo could see the way his hand disappeared into his own hole. Theo was starstruck, immovable – right until Lapin pulled his fingers out of himself entirely, offered them to Theo, and hissed, “Suck.”

Theo’s dick jolted. He took Lapin’s finger into his mouth obediently. It was sweet – a bit of pubic hair made it onto Lapin’s fingers, too, and it tasted like fondant, catching on the edge of his tongue. The reality of it settled Theo, a little, made him smile around Lapin’s fingers as he sucked.

“Are we really doing this?” he muttered when he pulled away, Lapin’s eyes dark on him. He took a moment to pick the hair out where it was caught on a tooth, discarding it to the side of the bed with a guilty mental apology to whoever will clean Lapin’s room. “We’re – it’s not like the others are idiots, you know, they’re only a few rooms away – “

Lapin rolled his eyes, sitting up to fully discard his sleepwear off the side of the bed, naked and wonderful. He leaned forward and put his hand on the back of Theobald’s neck, hard and commanding.

“If you don’t want them to hear,” Lapin snarled, pushing Theo’s face towards his crotch, “then _shut. Up.”)_

Theo rolls over in bed. He’s not aroused, exactly, anymore, but his crotch is still tingling. It’s been – a long time since Theo had been intimate with someone. Longer still that he had been on the receiving end of someone else’s hand.

He had known fully well what that was going in, too, of course. It was – a different arrangement than this one, what he had done for King Amethar. But it was an arrangement nonetheless, and one he had fully consented to. Theobald had no illusions about what they were doing – not during the war, when a warm body was a warm body, or after, when Amethar needed an outlet that no longer existed.

His arrangement with Amethar was different, of course. Much less talking about it. In the Ravening War, it had been mostly mindless, just backed against the side of a tent somewhere, or on top of a bedroll with hands over their mouths so other soldiers wouldn’t hear them. There was a sense where Theo was almost naïve then, when the silence meant that perhaps it was something more for Amethar, too, in the touch of skin and the disappearance before the morning. After the war, it was calmer, and Theo knew, better, that what he was doing was an act of service, and love, but – like all of Theo’s work as a knight – was not a two-way street.

So there wasn’t the discussion. There was the power dynamic – how could there not have been, with a prince and a knight? With Theo, young, struggling to understand where the line blurred between types of loyalty, why young Prince Amethar barking orders made his blood boil? But it was undiscussed. Mutually understood, and presumably agreed on, but there was no negotiating. There was no terminology.

And Amethar never made sure Theo came.

(“Been a while, old man?” Lapin’s grin was sharp as he wrapped his hand around Theo’s full length, as Theo bit down on the back of his hand to keep from making noise beyond a muffled squeak.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Theo breathed. He was hard – incredibly hard, of course he was, long before Lapin started to touch him in return – and there was almost a shame to it. Much as the soldiers in the trenches joked about size, Theo’s experience with having a bigger dick has been a difficult one. Even when his partners did enjoy penetration or oral, it wasn’t something he could offer, not without a significant amount of prep work or a real amount of danger. Sometimes, it was fine – Theo is, in all ways, happy to accede to whatever his partner may ask of him – but often, it made sex…difficult.

Lapin, when he pulled Theo’s dick out, was not looking at it with anything like fear or uncertainty. He was looking at it with hunger. Theo swallowed, shakily, digging his fingers into the give of the mattress under him. “I know you, uh, said – it’s fine, if it’s too big, I know it’s, there’s no pressure to, um, the things you said before, we can just – I can just take it, that’s fine, with me. Yeah.”

“Oh, you’ll take it." It was such a terrible come on that Theo was already groaning in complaint when Lapin jacked him, once, and dug a thumb in hard against his slit. Theo choked on nothing as Lapin leaned down, gathered up drool and spit over Theo’s dick, looking at it like it was a particularly interesting toy that he could use for himself. Lapin’s eyes were heavily dilated when he looked up again, mouth hovering over Theo’s crotch, rolling foreskin up and back with his thumb as Theo trembled with it.

“I want this – “ Lapin tapped Theo’s dick against his cheek, and Theo’s hips jerked, just a little “ – down my throat. I want to sit on it until it is fully inside me. Is this amenable?”

It took Theo a moment to gather the strength to respond, Lapin’s hand still marking a slow trail down and back. “Are you – “ he shuddered, as Lapin’s index finger rubbed over a specific spot that made his stomach curl. When he looked down, Lapin looked just as entranced as Theo had earlier, and somehow, that made the whole thing hotter. “Have a – bit of a size fetish, Chancellor?”

Lapin looked up with something akin to annoyance in his eyes, the view so similar to Theo’s guilty fantasies that he had to keep himself from reaching down and pushing Lapin onto his dick.

“Perhaps,” Lapin said, “I just like a challenge.” And before Theo could respond, Lapin replaced his hand with his mouth and swallowed him.)

Theo rolls over again, frustrated, impossibly uncomfortable. He doesn’t know what it means, is the thing. It’s mutual – Lapin had been too needy to possibly be faking attraction for some secret conspiracy. And it’s certainly something Theo wants, in a way that he hasn’t wanted in years. But – what is it? For all that the arrangement with Lapin has been discussed more than the arrangement with Amethar, Theo feels fully adrift in a way that he never has with the King, completely caught unawares. Is it just blowing off steam? Is it actually just a physical transaction? Or is it…something else, the way that all of Lapin’s words hide some secret meaning a few layers down, a promise that Theo isn’t sure he’s made?

Eventually, he must fall into a fitful sleep, because he wakes up in the morning – early, despite the late night, with an internal clock that simply won’t let him be. He dresses and dons his armor, catches himself in the mirror, blearily traipses out to eat breakfast with the Rocks family, thinking how he should act around them, if Lapin will arrive first or later, what the expectation is, if he should treat Lapin differently now, if that would tip off the twins.

Lapin isn’t there when they eat breakfast. He does not, in fact, arrive until breakfast is long over, and Calroy has discovered that he was called to the Church.

Such as it is, Theo doesn’t see Lapin again until he returns with twenty Imperial Soldiers at his shoulder, pushing him forward with their blades and their eyes.

“I am here to arrest Liam Wilhelmina on the count of witchcraft,” Lapin says, with eyes like steel, and Theobald sets his shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huzzah! this is now officially a lapin lives au because im too lazy to make it a separate fic when this one already has a set up for it. yay laziness!
> 
> who knows when i'll update, but if you want more of me talking about those Sad Gay Old Men, hmu on tumblr @riz-gukgak


	4. Chapter 4

Lapin was called to meet the Pontifex in the morning, not the evening prior. Liam does not spend the night in a cell, but he is dragged to trial. The bell tolls a mourning ring as they start to walk with the Imperial guards to the church. Theo holds his hand on Liam’s back, a steady reassurance.

It changes nothing, being called in the morning instead. Plumbeline stands and announces a false king. Amethar puts his hand on a book. Theo’s hands go tight and eyes go wide and shield goes steady as the Pontifex makes her speech, opens her hands, and orders the Imperial guards to seize them.

It changes nothing, until it does.

“I…misjudged you, Chancellor,” Theobald says, slowly – almost a déjà vu to it, the slow, repeated motions of being wrong about Lapin yet again.

Lapin snorts. “Oh, shut it.”

It’s a moment of tactical consideration. Preston would be easier to carry, and Liam is weak – he could come back down for Jet, and then, after, for Lapin, and Amethar, get as many people on a window as possible – he reaches out for Preston – 

– Theo was the ward of Lazuli Rocks, Candia’s first oracle in ages. He never understood magic the way she did, never reached the level of raw power that came with a flick of her fingers. But she had described her visions to him. They came fleeting, in moments, and all the time, jarring but expected. Presentation of conclusions foretold, things that she could’ve guessed, if given the time; just quicker, in the moment, precise and fleeting. Triggered by – something. She didn’t know, exactly, devoted much of her research to finding out. 

Theobald has never had a vision before. But as he looks at Lapin, he hears, like a dream, from the night before – _I would very much appreciate if you would extend that protection to me._

He is one minute in the future and no further. He is looking in through the tall windows of the cathedral. He watches Lapin’s blood splatter.

– and he is back in the heat of battle, where a moment will cost him the world, where he has but a second to change course or lose it all. At the last moment, he twists, wraps his arm not around Preston, but around the startled, frail waist of a large rabbit – a DC 10 strength check, and he reaches it.

The check to grab Liam is quicker, already decided by fate, but a little annoying because Liam keeps wiggling. “Prestoooon!!” he shouts, dramatically throwing an arm out. Preston squeals sadly. “Nooooooo – “

“He has a flying speed, it’s fine,” Lapin snaps, and then, as Theo alights upon the balcony, “Set me down, you great brute.”

Theo does not much feel like smiling, on the whole, but the insult breaks through the tension on his body, allows him a moment of private amusement as he sets the two of them down. Next to a combatant, unfortunately, but it would have to do – he would have to trust Lapin to heal Liam before more could happen. He takes a deep breath and double dashes, flies to Ruby and scoops her up in a great tornado of saving children and old men.

“This is why I would’ve nominated you for emperor,” Jet says approvingly, darting to shove an enemy off the balcony as he alights.

“Appreciate it. Think we’re past that.” He manages a quick half-smile at her and sets up next to Liam, shield at the ready. In the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees Amethar smile at him, in the midst of the fray. It’s small – almost nothing – but his chest feels light with it.

Amethar sets up to tackle the Pontifex, mixed panic and determination on his face, but Theo can’t take time to focus on that, can’t listen to whatever Amethar’s yelling to turn all the weapons towards him. By the grace of initiative order, it’s only half a moment before Preston double dashes with a big poof of peppermint, flying into Liam’s waiting arms, squealing as Keradin slams an opportunity attack on him and slashes through the stomach. As Liam darts past, crying “Prestooon!” and whispering reassurances, Theo glances over to see Sir Keradin Deeproot levelling a cold gaze at Lapin from where he stands, gleaming with righteous fury. “False prophet,” he snarls in a half-shout – and then, with magic in his words, laced with the Bulb and all it contains, _“Approach.”_

It’s enchantment magic – not the most powerful in the world, not with the spells Keradin has access to, but enchantment nonetheless. Lapin had been staring at the Book of Leaves, some sort of realization entering his eyes, but he turns to level his gaze on Keradin. Theo watches as something golden and pure and wrong takes a place in Lapin’s eye.

Lapin does as the command asks. He steps onto the balcony railing and approaches.

It’s too fast for Theo to possibly catch him, though he does try, his hand just tagging the edge of Lapin’s robe as he topples off the balcony down the full flight. He slams into the stone floor, staring up, unseeing. For a moment, the fly spell wavers, but he manages to maintain concentration, some form of Lapin’s will clings as he fumbles to a stand. He spends the rest of his movement getting to Keradin – dashes, when that is not enough.

Lapin’s rigid body finally returns to his control when he is within range of Keradin’s sword, and Theo can just make out the curl of a sneer on his face. He doesn’t have time to question when Ruby shouts, “Hold this!” and shoves a rope into his hand, just clings to it, eyes hard on Keradin lifting his sword (and the vision, the moment from Lazuli, the flash of insight, the blood on the cathedral window).

He glances over – there’s fog now?? – and makes a tactical decision. “Jet, hold this!” he shouts, shoves the rope in her hands, and darts down to that damned carrot.

Maybe he should be trying to break the window, and maybe he feels a little silly acting as a shuttle in the middle of this big dramatic fight. But the drop to the floor was a grim reminder. If Lapin goes down, they don’t just lose their healing, they lose the fly spell. And while Theo…sure hopes that whatever this rope plan is works, he’s not about to give up his back-up.

(The blood on the window, splattered, the whisper of words, “The Bulb cares for no one,” another world, somewhere - )

It’s a tactical decision. Lapin is hissing “Don’t” with something between real anger and exasperation, but it’s a tactical decision. He drops between Keradin and Lapin, hoists Lapin up, and casts Compelled Duel.

Or – no he doesn’t. It’ll fade as soon as he gets thirty feet away. He is still pissed, though, so he does still yell a little. “You gonna attack a rabbit, you stupid carrot?” He shouts as he yanks Lapin off the ground. “You absolute fool? Get fucked! Fuck the Bulb!”

“Fuck the Bulb,” Lapin deadpans, being carried by Theo’s hands under his armpits and looking like a particularly irritable child being punished.

“I do have magic that can teleport me,” Lapin says, a little waspish, when Theo sets him down this time. “I don’t need a chauffeur.”

“I’ll remember that next time you’re in danger.” Theo glances over to see Jet, leaned over the balcony, helping her father the last of the way up the rope. Amethar shakes himself pulls Payment Day back, and slams it into the window. The first thud into the crossbars does nothing; the second slams home, cracks webbing across, the last clinging pieces of glass shaking loose.

There’s a _fwip_ sound past Theo’s ear – the sound of arrows – and he lifts his shield instinctively, but to no avail; the bolt passes through him and nails Preston, whose squealing stops abruptly. Theobald is turning, preparing to convince Lapin that _yes, it is just a pig, but hear me out,_ when – _fwip, fwip._

Another bolt is sunk, a killing blow, through Preston’s eye, a pig for slaughter. The other – as Theo turns to look, sees where Keradin has dropped his sword to the ground and is levelling a crossbow, hellfire in his gaze – the other is straight through Lapin’s chest, and out his back.

Theo wants to be confused over the sound of Liam’s despaired shouting. It’s a _pig,_ he wants to yell down, as he steels his feet beneath himself, pulling his shield up to charge at the window. Why would he go after a pig? What possessed him to do that?

“This is what happens to the false magic you wield,” Keradin calls up, voice even and dark, preparing another bolt for Lapin’s heart. “You will be the next on the block.”

Lapin is saying something – probably something very cool, something where’s-your-Bulb-now-esque, Theo will be very sad later that he missed it – but Theo can’t think about it now. He pulls back and rams into the window – bounces back, cursing. He pulls back one more time, grits his teeth, gears himself up –

– one moment he is running at the window, and the next he is floating on air.

It takes a moment of Wil. E Coyote-esque confusion to realize that Fly is still on him, and another to clock that it means he has succeeded. “We’re going, everyone!” he shouts in the window, grabbing Liam and pulling him, as gentle and urgent as he can, to the alley below. Jet follows, holding Ruby with her to take the fall with her body (“Don’t you have rope?” Lapin calls as they fall, and Jet shouts, “SHIT” in response halfway down). And Amethar – 

“Get out of here,” Lapin hisses, pushing Amethar into the door behind him. Theo finds himself bubbling with something like desperation and anger, despite himself, realizes too late that he won’t be heard over everyone else shouting as he calls up, “You don’t have to die to save your daughter, grab Lapin and jump out the window – “

Amethar grits his teeth, looks into the cathedral behind him. And – just as he is steeling himself, as he looks over to the others – Lapin says, “Oh, for Heaven’s sake,” and casts Thunderstep. With a loud booming noise, Lapin and Amethar materialize next to the group, fully irritated and flabbergasted in turn.

It’s a moment of headcounting and another of relief, as Theo realizes that somehow – miraculously – they came out with only one casualty. Theo tucks Liam under his arm, murmurs soothing words as Lapin looks around, wildly. For a moment, Theo feels a terrible wrench of guilt, that perhaps – if he had done things differently, perhaps, the Tart Guard, and, stupidly, Preston, just for Liam’s sake – 

He looks at the window. Blood does not spatter. Lapin is standing with the group, irritated, out of spells – and alive.

“There’s no time,” Lapin snaps, “we have to move.”

Theo has never been so happy to be irritated with the Chancellor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "peach are you really keeping careful track of the actual dice rolls and character stats to ensure you stay as close to tone as possible, up to and including making a lapin char sheet that you'll update to keep spells & abilities accurate as the story goes on" n.no. why would u say that. its been a hard day some of us use dnd stats to cope alright
> 
> i now have a nsfw tumblr, so follow me @demisexualriz for the Explicit Gay Shit and @riz-gukgak for the Regular Gay Shit!

**Author's Note:**

> long sighs. i guess. this is what we're doing now. i guess this is what i'm doing now. and frankly. @me. Yikes
> 
> title from the song landfill by daughter, follow me on tumblr @riz-gukgak or twitter @pechebeche for more of.....Whatever This Is


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